


in that instance the pieces fell in place

by DemeterAnna



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen, Modern Girl in Thedas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:49:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8043178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemeterAnna/pseuds/DemeterAnna
Summary: Lucyna knew Solas was a much more passionate and sensually playful elf than his hermit-apostate façade let on, but she didn’t worry. He never gave her any reason to believe he would hurt her in any way.





	in that instance the pieces fell in place

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been working on that idea of a OC who is a single mother with an infant baby son and they BOTH get bodysnatched into Thedas. Shit happens, and she ends up making a deal with Solas: her knowledge of Dragon Age games and lore for his protection and care. Feels, angst and drama galore. I think there is enough context inside to give you a taste of what kind of story that would be. Besides the smut of course lmao
> 
> Now this bit came up as a divergence from the early stages of the idea of where I wanted that AU to go. I daydreamed about domestic fluff and slow burn and then I asked myself 'what if Solas wasn't so proper? what if Lucyna still doubted his goodwill at that stage of their partnership?' and then there was angsty smut everywhere.
> 
> WARNING: there are some issues with consent in here. Could sour some tastes.

Tom was clenching and unclenching his tiny fists as he slept. The sight made her smile. He was spread in his rocking crib contentedly, cotton blanket bunched up on his stomach from his shifting, as if he had not a care in the world, and she supposed he didn’t. Warm, fed, safe and well cared for, and so was she, thanks to Solas’ generous protection.

Solas’ hands were wandering again, but she let him.

Tom slept through two previous nights, and she hoped he would do so again. She was definitely looking forward to not having to get up in the middle of the night to feed the little critter. Especially since he still insisted on getting up at ungodly early hours.

_He grows so fast…_ She sighed wistfully as the thought flitted through her mind; long fingers spread on her stomach, hiking up her nightgown, tips grazing the undersides of her still over-sensitive breasts.

She would have to get to sewing him some new clothes soon, his present shirts started feeling quite tight and his tunic–dress was more of a long shirt as of late. Would Dagna have some more colorful scraps to give to her? Or should she just go and check Bonny Sims’ wares? She had some coin to spare, maybe she could pick out something nice for herself, too..?

Solas shifted flush against her back, the hand stroking her clenched on her hip and pressed it back against his lap. She squirmed a bit when she felt the unmistakable hardness there, but a lenient, amused smile curling on her lips was the only reaction. _My, was he in a raunchy mood._ Lucyna knew Solas was a much more passionate and sensually playful elf than his hermit-apostate façade let on, but she didn’t worry. He never gave her any reason to believe he would hurt her in any way. They both had boundaries they each respected.

She relaxed against him again and her mind wondered back to other topics. Josephine constantly nagged at her to invest in some status-improving ornaments; Lucyna was, after all, almost a spouse to the Inquisitor’s close friend and advisor, she should not look like some commoner. Perhaps a nice, lacquered hair clip? Or a complimentary set of simple but functional pins and ribbons that she could plait into her hair? She saw this one Orlesian lady in the Grand Hall the other day: her dress was garish, all lace and frillies, but the simple beauty of her twisting and braided hairstyle stayed in Lucyna’s mind.

Solas’ hand dipped between her legs and didn’t stop when she stiffened. His fingers gamely combed through the thick curls there and then moved on to gently stroke her mons. She tensed further, finally becoming alarmed, confused. Why would he… “Solas?”

“Lucyna…”

A startled breath escaped her at his answering hoarse whisper. She knew this – from a time she almost succeeded in forgetting. Unrepressed heady want, honest in its confidence that it will be sated. Sure that she will not refuse to meet it.

He shifted to wrap himself closely around her prone form, the hand under her head shifting back and careful fingers coming to tilt her head back as the ones between her legs slipped between her folds to stroke over the dampness there. He began planting small, wet kisses up the column of her bared throat, and his hot breath against her ear sent sparks of desire across her nerves.

He wasn’t simply caught up in his usual teasing, this was in no way a game one could stop at any time, she thought as she listened to him murmuring in heated Elvhen. No, he was setting up a table for a hearty, three-course meal, and she felt her body answering even as her mind riled. He had sworn he would not use her, would not coerce her into intimacy she would not accept, when they had been setting up the terms of their arrangement; even though he could well have demanded it, considering. Her silence and foresight for his care and protection – those were the terms. She suspected for some time now that what she had to offer sold far too expensive for the bother she and her son proved to be, but Solas didn’t even hint at wanting to re-discuss their agreement – and yet his actions now spoke of confidence of someone who already had the consent. She supposed that he would get it anyway: if she protested he would only need to mention any grief she cost him and she would have to give in. She lived off him, after all.

She would only sour the experience for herself if she did, though. It seemed as if he would be a generous lover, his unhurried but purposeful actions already awakening the pool of desire in her core. And she did find him attractive, very much so in fact. She enjoyed his company and grew to be quite fond of him. And she still trusted him not to hurt her. It would not be that bad.

But still…

She could not help the twinge of bitter disappointment that squeezed her heart and prickled at the corners of her eyes.

She clenched her eyes and made an effort to relax. It all depended on one’s attitude, on how she viewed it. How was it different from, let’s say, an arranged marriage? Like business trade in relationships, plenty couples made it work splendidly without love. Some made it work even with barely any tolerance towards the spouse, and Solas and she worked well together. It would be like… friends with benefits! It was just sex, really. Why was she making such a big deal out of it? He would be good to her.

She gasped when he dipped a finger in her, and jerked when he drew it out to trail a moist path up her seam and circle the bundle of nerves hooded there. She grasped at the tight muscles of his forearm as he teased her, and her hitched panting seemed to prompt another string of heated Elvhen whispered against her ear. _Was he saying something filthy?_ flitted through her mind. Somehow the possibility that he would sent a wave of sharp desire into her core. Solas - always polite, nondescript, collected – whispering dirty nothings as he rubbed fast circles on her clit. She was tensing up for entirely different reason now. _So good…_

She let out her breath in a high-pitched little whine of complaint when he stopped and huffed at his deep chuckle. She arched, rolled her hips, bend her knee and lifted her leg in invitation.  _Please, don’t stop_ , she begged wordlessly. It was entirely too long since she had been touched, she doesn’t remember when was the last time _she_ touched herself – and suddenly she didn’t care he might only be using her, because she realized she was _starved_ for this kind of attention. For any kind of attention.

Then he plunged two fingers in her and palmed her, and a shockwave of delight pushed a moan past her lips. A baby huff sounded past her haze of desire; she slapped a hand over her mouth in alarm. She clenched her legs back together, but couldn’t help the slight glare when she watched her baby boy shift in his crib. He settled back to sleep, thankfully, and she relaxed, but this reminded her of another concern. She didn’t know if she would be able to enjoy herself – and Solas – if Tom woke and started wailing in the middle of things. She would have to be quiet. But she remembered being vocal, noise had never before been an issue. Would she even be able to keep silent?

Meanwhile Solas muffled a giggle against her shoulder and wiggled his fingers, those still buried in her.

He _giggled!_ Lucyna craned her head back to peer at him in astonishment. She never heard that sound come out of him before.

She almost physically felt her pupils dilate in wonder: there was such a pure expression of happiness and adoration on his face, that she never thought she would see on him. He was grinning wide enough to split his face in two, his eyes gleaming in the gloom and those delightful little crinkles of crow’s feet appeared at their corners. A happy noise escaped her, if only for being able to see this expression on him, any sacrifice on her part was not too high a price. She wanted to press her lips against every laugh line and every freckle and imprint this image in her memory.

His eyes flickered towards Tom’s crib for a moment and she felt him deliberately curl his fingers again. She couldn’t help but squirm and bite her lip at the sensation, and his next chuckle was much lower, as much a seduction as his actions.

“It seems we find ourselves with a sound related issue.” He whispered hoarsely, his voice a caress. “We don’t want to wake our _ishalen_ , now do we?” He rolled his hips against hers slowly, sinfully, his hard length fitting between her cheeks. A tiny mewl rose from her despite the bit lip. “Oh, but the sounds you make are _most_ intriguing. What other noises would I be able to coax from you?” He rolled his hips again, harder and she swallowed, fighting to concentrate.

“You probably won’t be able to find out if there was a baby wail drowning them out, though.” She tried, almost embarrassed about how breathy she sounded.

Solas chuckled again. “True. It is fortunate there is magic at our disposal. A modified barrier, perhaps?”

He tugged his hand from between her legs – not before trailing his slippery fingers over her seam and pearl – and reached out towards the space between them and Tom’s crib. She worried her lip harder when she noticed how his whole hand glistened with her quim in the faint glow of the spell he was casting. Somehow the sight seemed incredibly erotic to her.

“There. Now, where were we? Ah yes…” He crooned with a suggestive quirk of his lips. She couldn’t bring herself to break eye contact, so lost was she in the warm depths of his eyes, but when his questing fingers sneaked towards her centre again, she opened herself almost instinctively. The smirk on his lips got replaced by a groan of his own when he buried his fingers back into her wet embrance. Was he imagining how would it feel to bury himself wholly into that, instead of just his fingers? Was he aching to do so just as much as she was aching at the emptiness? Was his mind as filled with primal need as hers was? Lucyna moaned low at her yearning thoughts. She rocked against him, riding his skilled, maddening fingers and rubbing her ass over his hardness pressed there. She wanted him like nothing else. She wanted him to want her with a burning passion, for him to lose himself in her and forget about the world. She wanted to be the center of his existence and attention. She wanted him to be hers, even if just for this one night.

She sobbed. She wanted to be entirely his. She wanted to be only his. She wanted…

There was an odd kind of wonder in his eyes. He wasn’t stopping what he was doing to her and every breath was a moan now, but he looked at her as if he saw her for the first time. She arched, close, _so incredibly close_ , and she reached out for his head, to bring him to her, so she could trace her fingertips lovingly over his sharp cheekbones, and that high nose ridge and that dip in his chin…

He sealed his mouth over her and tangled his tongue with her and he tasted of that minty paste he used to clean his teeth. She pressed back, begging and demanding, devouring him, holding him to her as she claimed his mouth. He seduced, but she took, and she offered everything she had in return. She shook, her muscles twitching and contracting around him, but he trembled just as much with all she made him feel. With the last frantic press of the heel of his palm and hard curl of his fingers, she came undone, crying out a keening whine. Her name fell from his lips like a benediction and she pressed her face against his throat.

She purred when he peppered her brow with feather light kisses, coming down from her gentle height. She hissed when he finally withdrew his hand, oversensitive and tender. Lucyna sighed deeply, thoughts slow and scattered, a languid satisfaction softening her muscles, but that satisfaction was not satiation. She peered up at the mage, biting her lip.

Solas’ eyes burned with the intensity of his want. He was shaking, every muscle tense, but his movements were slow and gentle when he lifted her leg higher and tugged her hips onto his lap. She held his eyes, bright and soft and adoring, she basked in this look, let it seep into her bones. He rubbed his length between her folds and the electrifying contact made both of them gasp. Slowly, deliberately, he dragged himself against her, coating himself with her wetness, and his head fell forward with a long groan. She caught it against her brow, her hand cradling the back of his head, and a fond smile formed on her lips when his eyes fluttered closed. He looked so impossibly vulnerable in that moment; Solas: her protector, her rebel not-god. Her heart swelled with emotion, broke for him. She placed affectionate pecks over his face. “It’s okay…” she whispered against his skin, soft, gentle, welcoming. “I am here…”

A whine escaped him and he chased her mouth with his, slanted his lips over her. His arms tightened over her, holding her closer, and finally, _finally_ he pressed inside. They came apart, mouths falling open, still close enough for brushing lips, breaths mingling. He stretched her easily, the drag of him inside her slick walls exquisite. It felt amazing; it had been so long she had forgotten how it was to be filled like that, but this – _he_ – was better for the tenderness and care he treated her with. She shuddered when he sheathed himself fully, tightening around him reflexively and a content sigh fell from her lips. “Solas…”

A groan paused a stream wet, open-mouthed kisses being planted on her shoulder and neck. He was whispering in elvhen again, his hand unclenching to start to roam. He withdrew from her, then he filled her right back up, eliciting a gratified moan from her.

His first thrusts were slow and deep, letting her adjust, teasing the flames of excitement back to a blazing roar. She rolled her hips with each draw, soon matching the easy tempo he set. She arched, rubbing against him sensually, brushing the hand still curled around his head over his scalp. She hummed appreciatively and his hand wandered, dragging his blunt nails over her thigh, massaging the soft flesh of her hip, tracing the lines of stretch marks on her abdomen. She admired his control, appreciated his gentleness, but she wanted more, more, _more_. She bit her lip, timidly unsure, but then she tightened fiercely around his retreating length. He bucked back with a strangled gasp, his whole body jerking, and she laughed with delight.

She wanted to see his fiery passion directed at her.

She wanted to see him lose that carefully maintained control, all for her.

She clenched again and he groaned, loud. “Lucyna…”

“More… Oh, _more_!”

Wild bucking smoothed out, but he gave in to the plea. There was nothing gradual about the sudden fast pace, each hard thrust accented with a wet slap of skin. She cried out, delighted laugh in her ragged pants. Yes, this, she wanted this, she needed this, him, a pressure in her core wound tight. His fingertips dug into her soft inner thigh and lifted it, and she keened.

Solas pressed his face into the crook of her neck, and there was a self-conscious chuckle in his ragged whisper. “I will not be able to last long.”

“It’s fine.” She panted back, squeezing the hand holding her. “Come for me…”

He moaned straight into her ear at that, a noticeable stutter coming back into his ever-quickening tempo. She grinned, deliberately tightening around him again, generous in vocalizing her enjoyment of him. When she heard the breath leave him with a whine again she giggled with delight, elated about the feeling of power, that she could have such a strong, driven person completely in her hold. If it was always like this, if he would always allow her to see him in such an exposed light, if every time she would feel so powerful, so adored, so cherished… Even if she wasn’t always brought to her own peak, she would happily submit to this new arrangement. She’d love to!

She’d love…

The next sound to leave her was a sob.

Solas’ hand left her thigh, and she cried out when she felt his fingers on her clit. “I am not going to leave you wanting, _ma sa’lath_.”

“Kiss me, Solas! Please, please…” She sobbed, suddenly desperate, craning her neck to reach him. He delved in, drinking her up, swallowing her moans and not stopping pressing rough, tight circles into her nub. His lips were messy on hers, his hips stuttering erratically and then a spark of lightning coursed up her nerves. She came hard; she unraveled with a force that tore a scream from her throat. Solas crushed her in his arms and shouted, a shudder of bliss crested her as she felt him spill deep within her. Pleasure almost blinded her, and her heart squeezed painfully when he sighed her name with loving awe.

They rested like that, sharing blissful kisses, satiated heaviness setting over their relaxed forms, still joined, unwilling to part. Lucyna felt Solas’ hand spread over her underbelly, caressing it briefly. He broke off from her lips to focus on it, and a moment later she felt a strange tingling sensation within herself.

“A contraceptive spell?” She asked, and he hummed in affirmation. “How neat.”

He chuckled as he turned to gaze back at her, a warm, content smile softening his sharp features. Then he took in her tear-stained face and turned alarmed.

“What is wrong? Have I hurt you?”

She shook her head and nuzzled into the hand that came up to cradle her face. She smiled weakly up at him. “My world just got shaken.”

“Ah.” He colored, caught by surprise. She reached out to trace a gentle smatter of freckles that stained his nose and cheeks.

_I love him._

“I should clean up.”

Solas pressed a small kiss to her fingertips and then slid out of her with a hiss. He rolled on his back with a content sleepy sigh, but she felt his eyes on her skin when she entered their back-closet.

_I love him._ She thought, dipping a cloth in cool water, her chest constricting with the flood of emotion. She wanted to avoid that, falling for him, because she knew how that story ended. She tried so hard to remember that their partnership, their intimacy was the result of an act brought up to provide an excuse for her and her son to stay with the Inquisition, where they would be protected and cared for, and where Solas would have safe access to her insight and personally ensure she would keep his full identity secret. But that started when she had been terrified and confused and helpless. And she had never been good at pretending. She was much better at living in a fantasy, and so she lived as his lover, the mother of his child, and forgot it was a lie she herself helped craft.

But the lie would end. The act will stop, the duty will call for him and he will answer without hesitation. He will leave, not looking back, and it seemed he would take her heart with him. She would stay, her son fatherless again, both of them again abandoned.

She washed her face clean of tears and pressed her palms on her prickling eyes. It took three deep breaths before the urge to cry passed. She felt raw, her core both frozen and too full to speak of. She wanted a hug.

Solas was already half asleep by the time she laid down, peace and content candidly plain on his face. He sleepily draped himself over her, gathering her close and burying his face in her hair. His hand found hers on her belly and traded their fingers together. He held her as if she was the most important thing in his life. She felt small, familiar peck placed behind her ear and a whisper. “ _Ma sa’lath…_ ” And with a deep, happy sigh he slipped into the plane of dreams.

And even though he was warm and solid, and the circle of his arms meant safety and comfort, it took a long time for her lip to stop quivering.

\--------

Soft shuffling from Tom’s crib woke her up.

Awareness came sluggish and gradual, her mind less willing than usual to start the day. Honestly, she felt like during those first weeks after the birth, still exhausted and weak but forced to get up four times per night both by her too-full breasts and Tommy’s wailing; time when the wariness was bone-deep and she felt too old for her skin. Her head ached, as if stuffed with cotton. She was enveloped in a warm embrace and Solas’ deep, rhythmic breath tickled the fine hair on her neck. This was nice, at least.

She detangled herself from him and sat up, her head feeling heavy. And then she became aware of the pleasant kind of soreness between her legs, and the memories of last night came rushing in. She glanced at Solas over her shoulder.

He looked peaceful, relaxed. The perpetual crease between his eyes smoothed out and the tightness in his crow’s feet relaxed. His lips were slightly parted, no longer drawn in a tight, stern line and she was delighted to see the natural upturn of their corners. She so rarely was able to see him like this, free of worries. The hand that held her through the night curled slightly, as if grasping at the lingering phantom feeling of her. There was a stark empty space she left between his strong arms and broad shoulders and her heart squeezed at the implication. She got up fast, not being able to bear looking at it.

Tom was playing with his blanket and his favorite rag doll when she peeked into his crib. He grinned his gap-toothed smile at her when he noticed her and gurgled excitedly when she tickled his kicking feet. It was good he could occupy himself without her initiative; if she wasn’t such a light sleeper she would have been able to grab a few more moments of sleep until he would get hungry and wake her. She left him to play and went off to prepare for the day.

She was tender between the legs, she discovered when she gave herself a rag bath. He had been good to her, gentle and sweet, generously giving in his passion; she didn’t expect someone collecting due payment to be this attentive, especially someone who went celibate for as long as Solas has. Was it possible that he was just this good of a lover? It’s not like she was so experienced to be able to debate. Jarek used to be fun: what he lacked in skill he compensated with eagerness and playfulness. They weren’t involved emotionally, and that was what led to her growing bored in the end. And that drunken encounter in the club had been hot and exciting, but also foggy in her memory. They both seemed worlds apart from Solas.

She smirked at her thoughts: in a literal sense, they indeed were.

Maybe she was misunderstanding his intentions; a hopeful, romantic part of her supplied. Maybe he only got caught up in this situation just like she did. Lucyna knew he was lonely. No matter how he wanted to be seen as a person of reason and logic, he was actually a very passionate man. Perhaps he wanted her because he cared for her, because he felt close. Had she spoken up and asked him to stop, he would have. Had he first explained his emotions and wishes, she would have happily agreed anyway. At least then she would be ready to be a port in the storm, sharing in the solace of a warm body and prepared to let go when he would need to move on.

She shook her head, even more unhappy now. She felt guilty for jumping to the worst kind of conclusions and angry for being hopeful. Both of those options would end in disappointment for her, would hurt, even if the second one would soften the blow.

She sighed. The most confusing thing about this whole situation was that she did not expect it in the slightest. There was nothing to prepare her for it: no change in behavior, no slipped word. Every mention of the subject up to this point had been concluded with him ensuring her that she was safe, that he would not force nor coerce her to sleep with him and that he would protect her from unwanted attention from any third parties, too. She grew used to being informed about every and any possibility she could encounter, so that she could prepare for it.

That was the secret of their success! Good communication! That’s why their elaborate lie held unquestioned through all this time, even for his lack of knowledge about her and her lack of basic survival or housekeeping skills at the beginning. They talked about everything, no topic was too difficult, too embarrassing, or too mundane. They discussed whether she should get an onesie or a baby-dress for Tom and the amount of paper sheets for his work, for fuck’s sake! They did argue and disagree on things, but always she knew where she was standing in the grand scheme of things. It was unlike him to proceed with such an important matter without saying anything beforehand. She just couldn’t understand it.

Solas was sitting on the edge of the bed, still bleary-eyed, when she came out of the closet. She stopped in her tracks, stunned as if she saw him for the first time in her life. Which was ridiculous, since he was the first thing she saw in the mornings and the last she saw before she closed her eyes at nights, every day since she arrived at Skyhold, save for those instances when he ventured out with the Inquisitor. His half-nakedness wasn't new for her either, because that’s how he preferred to sleep; she ended up pressed against his bare chest most nights, too. They traded little intimate touches and kisses on daily basis.

Then he looked up at her. He smiled a genuine, happy, gentle smile that lit up his blue eyes and chased out the first unnoticed tension that appeared between her shoulder blades. She couldn’t help but answer with the same. _I love that man._

“Good morning.” She greeted softly, and realized that yes, she was seeing this Solas for the first time. They both were different this morning. This Solas was the one that held her like she was the most cherished person in the world, who made her tremble and cry out in pleasure, who shouted her name as he spent himself deep inside her. She knew now how he sounded in the grasp of desire, how he felt against and inside her, how he looked in the post-coital bliss. They couldn’t ignore that and simply move back to their daily routine. They were real lovers, now. No matter the intentions.

Somehow the realization made her shy. She looked down and fiddled with her fingers, feeling her cheeks heat up. She watched his feet when he rised and stepped to her and peered up at him when he stopped mere breath away. He looked so, so pleased when he took her face in his hands and kissed her, long and sweet and familiar. _I love him._

“Good morning.” He answered when they parted. Warmth filled her at his adoring expression, gentle joy bubbling up in her pounding heart. A little laugh escaped her with a sighed breath. He grinned cheekily after a moment and turned away from her to get in the closet himself. She chuckled, but then almost choked. She so wanted this to be real. She couldn’t just…

They needed to talk. Clear this out. Now. And she needed to do this with her wits about her, not scattered all over the place. She wasn’t even sure how to start the talk. She needed to think fast, Solas will come out and will want to start the day, but she _needed to resolve this now_. And she needed to do this covered, not half naked and with tangled hair.

She plastered a smile on her face, but could feel her hands shaking. The usually cozy silence felt stifling to her now.

“Could we talk about what happened?”

She turned, surprised, and took in Solas’ expression. He still looked happy, content with her, but under that she finally noticed a trace of something like uncertainty, concern. She was too relieved to dwell on it, though.

“Sure. I was just worrying about how to ask, actually.” She laughed nervously. She picked at the comb she held, mostly unconscious need to do something with her hands, a nervous tick she wasn’t quite successful at unlearning.

She jumped when he traced his palm down her forearm to pluck it from her. “Are you well? You seem shaken.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Simply nervous.” She peered at him, then nodded her permission to his murmured ‘May I?’ and off-hand gesture with the comb to her hair. She found it much easier to look at him now that his burning blue eyes weren’t fixed on her face so intently. The feeling of his gentle ministrations in her hair wasn’t a bother, either.

“What about? Have I hurt you? You surprised me, yesterday, with your tears.”

“No! No, I’m alright. I… It-it was wonderful.” She stumbled over her words, _like a teenager with her first crush_ she thought sourly, and felt her cheeks heat up again. It had been, though, and she wanted him to know that. “You’ve made me feel very good. I hope I have managed to repay in kind.” She groaned internally at how lame that sounded. She was normally much more well-spoken than this. She marveled at Solas’ ease, even as he let out his trademark chuckle-snort at her fumbling.

“Indeed you have. You have been exquisite, a treat much beyond anything experienced in this world or another.” There it was, his smooth eloquence. The warmth in her chest was definitely one of pleasure, now. _Sweet talker._

He grazed his thumb against the curled corner of her mouth. “I only fear that in my pursuit of you I had been too rough. It had been a long time… and once I have gotten a taste, it became difficult to control my reawakened hunger. I admit to dread to be the cause of your disappointment.”

“I know what you mean. It-it had been long for me, too. But no, you weren’t and I wasn’t. Disappointed, I mean. Or hurt. Quite the contrary…” She trailed off with a smile, his fingers in her hair bringing back the sweet memory of the night. She sobered then, though, timid again and softly confessed. “I-I simply hadn’t done anything like that before.” She looked up at him as he stepped closer to wind her hair around a headband and wrap them around the sides of her head, like he had seen her do. “The familiarity… or cuddling. This is new for me.”

“Were you not close with your previous partners?”

“Encounters, you mean. No, I wasn’t. And the arrangement I had had with Tom’s sire was strictly physical. I rarely stayed the night, and there wasn’t much we had in common anyway so there was nothing to talk about, so we didn’t.”

“Was it not dissatisfying?”

“It was what I wanted. I didn’t want to accidentally get attached, because he was under no circumstances a boyfriend material, and I hadn’t wanted a relationship anyway. And I didn’t count on getting pregnant.” She finished with a grumble. She dealt with that unpleasantness already and moved on, but the topic always left a sour aftertaste. It did brace her for what she actually had to ask, though. “But let’s leave that. What do you want out of this new situation?”

Solas stilled, his hands freezing in her hair. Warning bells resounded in the back of her mind. He seemed surprised when he asked. “Excuse me?”

“What do you expect of me? What should I expect you to do with me? Clearly the rules of our previous agreement have changed, and I would like to know what the new ones were.” She pressed with a pleasant smile, though it was tight.

“Rules? What?”

The smile slipped slowly as she stared unblinkingly up at him. Realization bloomed in his eyes and he looked… devastated.

“Is that why you…” He choked. “I have told you, time and again, that I would not force you to lay with me against your will. What have I done to make you think otherwise?”

She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t look away. Shame burned her as she saw new pain twist his features. He twisted away from her, running a shaking hand across his head, sputtering a choked out elvhen that sounded like curses.

“Why haven’t you said anything if you did not want me? No. No, I refuse! I refuse to believe you feel nothing for me. Not after…”

“I can’t!” She cried then. “I can’t, all I can do is pretend to have the things I want, because you will leave and I will be left behind!” She wailed.

“There is nothing stopping me from taking you with me!”

She gasped, stared. A distressed wail pierced the room and she flinched, turning and reaching for fussy Tom before she even registered what she was doing. She tried to soothe him, but how could she, when she shook whole, eyes burning and half-sobbing pants wet in her throat. She rocked her baby, her poor baby boy, when he finally latched onto an exposed tit and suckled frantically. She felt wretched. How could she have done such a mistake? She curled in on herself, ashamed.

Solas drew nearer, she heard the soft pad of his bare feet between the space of her sobs. “Lucyna?”

“I love you.” She whined, finally breaking in tears. “I love you, and I thought this had been only a game of pretend to you. I wanted… I…” The tears stole her ability to speak. “I wanted so much for this to be real.”

“Lucyna…” His arms encircled her, pressed her securely against his front, arms maneuvering so they helped support Tom. “ _Ma vhenan_.” He breathed against her neck and she sobbed harder, overwhelmed. “How could I leave my heart behind and still be able to live? You gave me strength and courage to go on. You gave reason to my purpose; you gave me peace and love and a family. Where you are, there is my home, and I will sooner perish than abandon you.”

She cried in his arms, relieved and happy, and grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> ishalen - son, offspring  
> ma sa'lath - my one love  
> ma vhenan - my heart


End file.
